


we sleep, we dream

by crownsandbirds



Series: no other companion [3]
Category: If We Were Villains - M.L. Rio
Genre: M/M, Morning After, Shakespeare Quotations, like seriously, thats all - Freeform, this is fluff and kisses and shakespeare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 20:31:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14410017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownsandbirds/pseuds/crownsandbirds
Summary: "Are you sure that we are awake?" he quotes, as gentle as he can, the Bard's words coming as easily as breathing to him. "It seems to me that yet we sleep, we dream."James chuckles. "So methinks: and I have found you like a jewel, mine own, and not mine own."their first morning after, and all it means.





	we sleep, we dream

**Author's Note:**

> "Mine be thy love, and thy's love use my treasure."
> 
> (William Shakespeare)

Oliver comes back from the interestingly implicit, soft conversation he had with Alexander downstairs still smelling faintly of cigarettes and with his eyelids weighing out of exhaustion. He  _ is  _ tired, he notices, and it is with a pleased sigh that he lays down on the bed - Alexander's bed - beside James, throwing an arm around his waist. As he allows sleep to engulf him, he notices how tense he had been the last few… days? weeks? hell, make it years, his jaw clenched, his shoulders tense; and compares that to how easy it is to melt against James' warmth, lulled by the sweet cadence of his breathing. 

When he wakes, it's a gentle process of dozing off for a few minutes before opening his eyes again. He struggles to remember the last time he allowed himself to sleep in - James is an early riser, always eager to be productive and make something useful of himself and his day, and Oliver has always been too tuned to his every movement not to wake up with him. Now, James is still by his side, head resting on his chest, seeming perfectly content to lay there for all eternity.

"Good morning, you," he whispers softly when he realizes Oliver is awake, shifting to face him and caress his cheek with the back of his fingers. It's such a tender, loving touch that Oliver has to close his eyes for a moment to brace himself for the strength of the infatuation running over him right now, and try to gather some wits about him before taking hold of James' wrist to kiss his palm. 

" _ Are you sure that we are awake?" _ he quotes, as gentle as he can, the Bard's words coming as easily as breathing to him. " _ It seems to me that yet we sleep, we dream _ ."

James chuckles. " _ So methinks: and I have found you like a jewel, mine own, and not mine own. _ "

"Yours, James, always. You must know that, specially after last night."

James presses a kiss on his collarbone as a silent reward. Oliver blushes at how he keeps staring at his bare chest with this sated, pleased little smile. "Don't break the Shakespeare streak."

"Is that what we're calling it now? What, are you feeling guilty because we didn't quote him at all last night?"

"He  _ did _ put you in my bed -"

"Alexander's bed, to be precise -"

He receives a little push for that.

"He  _ did _ put the two of us together in  _ a bed _ in the first place, he deserves some acknowledgment." 

"I'll make sure to quote all his dick jokes next time." 

Oliver doesn't miss the way James' fond smile widens at the mention of a next time. He himself can't even begin to imagine how the second time will feel like, and the second morning-after, and everything afterwards. He wonders if he'll survive the blossoming of feeling that's threatening to explode and break his ribcage. 

" _ Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em? _ " James follows that with a tiny movement of his hips and Oliver has to remind himself that it is morning and they do have things to do.

"Aren't you just filled with clichés this morning."

"Give me some credit for refraining from quoting pilgrim's hands. I was dying to do that."

This is silly, Oliver muses. So silly, and light, and  _ easy.  _ Is this what it's supposed to feel like? Or is it only with them that a morning can glide so smoothly through their fingers? He feels both delightfully ordinary, as if the world is at last embracing them, and unbelievably special, as if they’re the only two people in the universe who are able to experience anything like this.

He is sharply reminded of a Montaigne quote, one that he has never understood fully until now -  _ If a man urge me to tell wherefore I loved him, I feel it cannot be expressed but by answering: Because it was he, because it was myself. _

Changing past to present tense. This is forever.

" _ Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night. _ "

"Oh, fuck you," James' delicious, cheerful laughter pulls at something unnamed in Oliver's chest, as if he doesn't know how much he is loved, the distance to which Oliver would go for that laughter. " _ He is mad that trusts in the tameness of the wolf, a boy's love, a horse's health -"  _

_ "And a whore's oath, _ yes, I’m aware,  _ but to say the truth, reason and love keep little company nowadays." _

_ “ _ That one’s a favorite of Alexander’s. By the way, we should give him his bedroom back.”

“He can wait five minutes.” Oliver pulls James closer and does his best not to let it show on his face that he would give the world to hear James saying he loves him one more time. Just like this, with his own words or those borrowed from Shakespeare, just one more time like this, with them being lazy together, the morning light making grey eyes glitter gold. He  _ wants _ , he  _ needs _ .  He finds himself clinging, ' _ hanging on him as if increase of appetite grows by what it feeds on'. _

James looks only too happy to be held and bask in the attention and the warmth, and says nothing more. They spend a few moments in companionable silence, Oliver tracing lazy patterns on James’ shoulder and trying to mentally map the scratches that now he can feel sting on his back.

“You know…” James mumbles.

“What?”

“ _ Reason becomes the marshal to my will and leads me to your eyes, where I o'erlook love’s stories written in love’s richest book _ .” James raises his glance up to Oliver's face, where it rests, content to watch every beauty and flaw and shift of expression. "I love you, Oliver. I truly do."

Oliver's heart settles in his chest, and the air leaves his lungs. Breathing has never been so easy. Living and loving has never been so easy. "I'm glad," he says stupidly. James apparently understands all he still isn't able to say, because he can't seem to stop smiling, and it's infectious - Oliver catches himself mirroring him, as he often does.

A gentle thumb catches in the corner of his smiling lips. "You sure look the part." 

The immensity of the touches is astounding. When James rests his head again on his chest, hand placed on his heart, Oliver notices that a stray tear has drifted from his own eye and is trailing down a path on his temples. 

_ Happy. I'm happy. _

 

**Author's Note:**

> did i slightly alter that quote in the notes? you can bet i did  
> anyway this is a continuation of what eve wrote a while ago and a continuation from their first night together  
> to that person who made a comment asking about the shakespeare quotes: there you have it  
> also happy birthday to william shakespeare thank you for being there for me since i was 12 you mean the entire world


End file.
